Sunday, November 14, 2010

My little cowboy

There's a particular exhaustion I feel after one of my children's birthday parties. Such a mix of joy and fatigue. The weeks of planning, the morning of chaos, the cake-baking and food preparation, the guest list shuffles and all the other myriad details that go into planning it.  But then, watching it unfold - balloons and laughing children and flying wrapping paper - just feels like perfection.  No matter what could go wrong, it's perfect because it's about making the day special for Andrew.

And then the best part? Tucking in the little birthday boy and having him say: "This was the BEST day ever." 

My body is tired, but I am so at peace right now.  I feel the love for my child when I plan a day filled with the things they love most.  Inviting their little friends.  Having them help create a cake. 

Birthdays mean so much to me because they celebrate the coming of my child into the world.  There are moments when I look over at Andrew...his nearing-4-year-old self...and am stunned to remember that very first second that I pulled him out of the water and into my arms.  Looking down at his tiniest of face, as he scrunched up his face from the light. And to think that the same child is now the sword-wielding, hug-giving, articulate and inquisitive little boy he is now. 

His birthday isn't for another month (we're loose with celebration dates), so I'll save my schmoopiness over him for the Birthday Letter.   

Here's the birthday boy with his sweet little buddy, Samuel (on the left). 

And the Birthday Siblings:

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